I Heart Geeks (21 page)

Beyond pissed off, I slammed the door closed, it bounced off the lock back into my face, so I punched it. Pain lanced up my arm. I could tell without looking at it that I’d busted open several knuckles.
Idiot
. It was her fault, damn it. I shook out my hand and paced up and down the space in front of the bed. What a hypocrite. I hadn’t told her because I knew she’d blow up in my face.

So I’d kept it from her that was no reason to end it. I played the conversation over and over again in my head. Nope, it was my fault. How could I have not told her? Maybe I could still catch up with her if I ran. I looked back up at the door. There was also now a nice, fist-sized dent that I would have to pay for.
Frackity frack
. Going after her when I was this pissed wasn’t going to solve anything. Plus, I’d been standing here for far too long to even be able to guess which direction she’d gone.

After finding a clean towel in the bathroom to stop the bleeding on my hand, I settled back into the closest chair and massaged my temples. Concentrating on calming the
frack
down, I took several deep breaths. Something across the room slid down the wall and settled on the floor. I glanced up. The trivia prizes. Doing a quick survey of the room, I spotted her GameCon bag and the graphic novels in the corner on the other side of the bed.

The clock nearby flashed 2:15 AM. As far as I remembered, the LAN party wasn’t supposed to start until three. Everyone would, still be out at one of the parties or karaoke. I could take the stuff to her room. But then, I didn’t know her room number, so that wasn’t an option. Rubbing my hands through my hair, I let out the frustrated yell that had been waiting in my throat since she walked out the door.

My eyes fell on the bed, where only an hour ago Rose had been laughing and holding me. I diverted my eyes. They settled on the open bathroom, where she’d taken a shower. I moved my eyes again. Everywhere I looked I saw her, heard her, hell, I even smelled her. The walls of the room felt too close. I needed to get out.

Without knowing where I was going, I left the room with nothing but my wallet and hotel key. No phone. If someone wanted to talk, they could
fracking
find me. The whole thing was idiotic. It would have never happened if I had told her at any time in the last umpteen days. Though, as I wandered the hotel corridors alone, I wasn’t even sure if that was true.

She’d said she was understanding, and yet, she’d written me off for one small misunderstanding. What kind of friend, or lover for that matter, cuts off a relationship based on one
fracking
misunderstanding? And it wasn’t like I had slandered her name to the entirety of GameCon. There were only a handful of people who even knew she was connected to the name, for
frack’s
sake.

At this point, I doubted that she would have been any more understanding if I had told her myself. Whether by dramatic irony or pure chance, when I stopped brooding and looked up, I was back at the same bar, standing right in front of the same bartender where I started my night. Rick, I think it was.

“Hey, it’s um, Dean, right? Nice to see they give you time off from dragon slaying.” A frown grew on his face when I stared at him. He waved a hand, indicating the empty seat in front of me as he pulled some whiskey out from under the bar. “You fracked up, didn’t you?”

I snatched up the glass as soon as he finished pouring and grunted at him. Grunted. Was I a barbarian, now? Rose thought so. In one go, I downed the first glass and slammed it down for another. The first whiskey took the edge off my frustration, so I held up two fingers ordering a double this time.

The bartender poured it. “That bad, huh, dude?”

I didn’t bother to answer, gulped it down again. This time I felt the burn rise up the back of my throat. Pointing at my glass, I waited for him to fill it back up. He hesitated a moment before pouring another double into the glass.

Not wanting him to cut me off, I took this drink a little slower. Soon I would feel indifferent or ten times worse. Well, as long as he kept pouring. Alcohol with me was always a crapshoot. Watching the whiskey swirl in my glass, I could feel the regret seep back into my thoughts, settling itself down in my gut. All of it was my fault, and I knew it. I laid my head down on the bar.
Barkeep, can I get an order of ten times the guilt? Please and thank you
.

Now that I’d ruined any chance of maintaining a real relationship with Rose, and her friends by extension, there was nothing to keep me here other than the short story contest. There was no way I was struggling through that LAN party tonight. In fact, I had missed the meet up.

I had an obligation to go to the judging tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. Whose brilliant idea was that, anyway? It wasn’t an option at this point. If I was honest with myself, it never had been. An internship and possible job writing for a game company was my dream. Career-wise, it was all I’d wanted since I was ten years old. I felt a hand pat me on the shoulder.

“You okay, dude?” Rick asked.

“Nope, not at all,” I said with my nose mashed into the bar counter.

I’d known it was important from the get go, and that had made me hesitate. Gods, I was thinking about this way too much. Raising my head, I downed the last of my drink and ordered two more doubles.

Rick didn’t move the bottle, instead he rubbed his fingers over his lips. “Maybe you should slow it down, Dean.”

“Why? It’s not like I have anything to stay sober for. Cause you know, like you said, I fracked up.” I tried to ignore the edge in my voice and the warmth I felt just behind my eyes. For a brief moment, I thought he might still refuse to pour me more, but he tipped over the bottle and filled up a tall glass.

“I am sorry, Dean, but that’s all you’re going to get out of me tonight.” He tucked the bottle behind the bar and turned to walk away, but hesitated. “Tab’s on me,” he said tapping the bar top, before moving to help someone else with their order.

Fishing in my pocket, I found several twenties and placed them on the bar where I thought he could find them. He didn’t have to be nice—and I knew it—but I was more than grateful for the kindness. I’d screwed any chance of actually getting Rose as—well—an anything right the hell up. There needed to be something I could take away from this disaster, even if it was just some stranger’s goodwill. And getting really, really drunk.
Here’s to unhappy endings
. I grabbed the glass and took it down in one long swig.

Shrill ringing shot through my head, making pain lance through my body. I groped for the phone beside me. The ring shrieked again. Wrong side. Rolling over, I smacked the phone off the table, fumbling with it for a second before finding my ear.

“He-Hello?”

“Good morning, Mr. Flynn. This is your seven thirty a.m. courtesy wake-up call. Hope you have a pleasant day.”

The line clicked out. I don’t know how long it took me, but I realized that I was laying there listening to the dial tone. After a few misses, I got the phone back on its base. Even that small amount of movement made my stomach roil. Today was going to suck. My head pounded in my ears and every single bit of my body ached. I was a contender for the world’s biggest idiot.

Whether I felt like crap or not, I still had to be dressed and presentable at the judging in an hour and a half. Laying here wasn’t doing me any favors. In fact, if I laid here too long I wouldn’t be able to get coffee beforehand, and that wasn’t acceptable.

Opening my eyes just a sliver, I watched the green digits on the clock swivel, going in and out of focus. My whole body convulsed as bile shot up the back of my throat. Scrambling out of the bed, I fell flat on the floor and then crawled to the bathroom in time to throw up my entire night in the toilet. Far too much volume for what I remembered drinking poured of my body, until I was dry heaving.

Dropping down to the cool tile floor, I peeked out into the room at the horrid green numbers. 7:58 a.m.
Frack.
Maybe I could just lay here until eight o’clock.
Just two more minutes
. The cold tile felt glorious on my face. Two minutes passed, then three. At 8:02, I dragged myself over to the shower. That was when I realized I’d slept in my clothes from yesterday.

Well, hopefully I’d remembered to pack another polo. Showing up reeking of booze and barely conscious would probably be worse than not showing up at all. I toyed with the idea of going back to bed as I undressed.
Damn it.
I really wanted that job.

The shower was amazing, but too short. Shuffling into the bedroom, I riffled through my bag and found some clean, presentable clothes. I also found some aspirin and popped it, dry, into my mouth. Clothed and deodorized, I grabbed my wallet and pass to head out. Something caught my eye in the corner. Rose’s bag and prizes were still here, along with my cell phone still sitting next to them on the nightstand.

A blue light blinked on my phone at intervals. Probably an email. Eyeing Rose’s stuff staring at me from the corner, I unlocked it and checked. Three missed calls and, what, five? No, six messages.
What the hell?
They were all from Kyle. I’d completely forgotten that I’d given him my number in case we got separated yesterday.

LAN is starting.

Where are you?

Come on, Droryn, we need you.

We’re dying here, man.

You okay?

Come by 831 if you want to talk.

Crap
. I had caused some trouble not showing up. But, by now, Rose had spilled all my inadequacies to the group. There was no point in answering them. The pile of prizes loomed in the corner. Still, I should get those back to her.
Damn it
. Rubbing a hand through my hair, I glanced at the time on my phone. I still had twenty-five minutes.

Groaning, I scooped up all of her stuff and headed upstairs. Their room was directly across from mine one floor up. I knocked once before the door swung open. That was surprising. Part of me was hoping that they’d still be sleeping and I could leave this crap at the front desk. Kyle was fully dressed and holding a coffee.
Weird
.

“Dean. I was hoping we’d see you this morning. Want to come in? Rose’ll be here in a few.”

“Naw, man. I just needed to drop off this stuff. There’s this panel thing I have to be at in like fifteen minutes,” I mumbled, handing him the bags.

“Okay, no problem. But we’ll see you after, yeah?” He put the bags in the room behind him, smiling when he looked back at me.

“Probably not.” I rubbed a hand on the back of my neck. “Rose won’t wanna see me anyway.”

“What do you mean? That’s half the reason we’re here, man.” Kyle stepped out of the room and mostly closed the door, holding it slightly opened with his foot.

“Yeah, sorry ya’ll wasted your time. I’m gonna head home after the panel, so tell Rose she doesn’t have to worry about leaving or anything. Look I gotta go. It was nice to meet you, man.” I held out a shaky hand and gripped his in a quick shake. He still stood there looking confused when I turned and walked away.

The line at the coffee shop was a nightmare. Not to mention the head-splitting noise. I stayed as long as it took to grab the biggest latte they had. Still, the smell of scones made me want to throw up all over again.

Warmth and caffeine helped cut the residual drunkenness, bringing me back to life somewhat. Plus, the aspirin was starting to do its job. As expected, the room for the short story competition was barely a quarter full.

A small section had been reserved for the competitors. There were twenty of us that had received the invite. Shooting the group as polite and genuine a smile as I could manage, I took a seat next to a younger-looking girl in thick-rimmed glasses. Most of the group was as bad off as myself.
Thank you, late-night parties
. I gulped down another swig of my coffee just as the announcer and judges ambled up onto the stage.

“Good morning, everyone. Sorry about the early time slot. We were, unfortunately, bumped back for a last-minute celebrity guest booking. Most of us are feeling little rough as well, so we’ll try to get through everything as quickly as possible while still paying proper respect to our entrants. Alright, let’s get started. This is the Fantasy and Science Fiction Short Story Contest. It was judged by some of the most successful and creative minds in the industry…”

My attention waned as she spoke. I caught that there were two famous authors, one TV show writer, and, of course, the great and powerful Bruno Montenegro. They spent too long playing to the egos of those that had been selected as the top twenty. It was a tough choice, really close competition, blah blah.

They even took the time to explain to the handful of audience members how each stage of the competition was judged and narrowed down. As I was barely conscious with the aid of my four shots of espresso, I zoned out. I mean, how could I even pretend to be enthusiastic about all this crap when it was the reason I’d lost Rose? Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I clicked it on and unlocked it. Rose’s picture smiled at me, our armored bodies squished together for the photo. Still perfect. After everything, I couldn’t be mad at her. As much as I wanted it to not be my fault, it was.

Writing that stupid short story at the last minute, submitting it with personal information, and then being too much of a coward to tell her I’d fracked up pointed to me as the guilty party in this fiasco. So what was I left with after all of that? Some stupid contest. A business card sure, but who knew if that was going to pan out. For one night, I’d been the luckiest man in the world. Now I was the pathetic idiot that would stare at chat logs and pictures like they might conjure her back into my life somehow. Sighing, I put my phone back in my pocket and tried to choke down the rest of my coffee.

What felt like an hour later, they decided to announce the winners, mentioning for the first time that the grand winner would have to read an excerpt, of the judges’ choosing, aloud for the audience. I pitied the poor sap stuck with that embarrassment. Bruno handed the announcer a sheet of paper, then took his seat back with the other judges.